


Who I Was I Didn't Know

by catnip



Category: 2PM
Genre: Alternate Universe - Asylum, Angst, Eating Disorders, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Minor Violence, References to Abuse, References to Suicide, References to self-harm, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-10 13:59:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catnip/pseuds/catnip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After hitting rock bottom Taecyeon finds himself in a psychiatric hospital.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who I Was I Didn't Know

**Author's Note:**

> [Originally posted at my livejournal in June of '11] I debated whether or not to post this for several reasons, but I like it and it's the first thing I've been able to write in awhile. I can't take credit fully for the idea so thanks to the person who put it into my head (and some movies along the way)! I took some liberties when it came to fleshing out the reasons each character had for being in a mental institution and how they'd act. Minor research + a sprinkle of myself + making a few things up = this story. Hopefully I didn't horribly mess anything up and cause offense or upset.

The introductions passed in a blur. Doctors, nurses, rules and regulations. Taecyeon wasn't paying attention to any of it as he allowed himself to be led around the grounds of the facility. He didn't really care, was simply waiting for the grand tour to end so he could find his room and get some sleep. 

All he ever wanted to do these days was sleep. The doctors had said it was a side effect, the medication they put him on a week ago while he was still in a hospital bed caused it, but it seemed to him that he had been tired now for months. Years. 

“If you have an questions you can ask a staff member at any time, or a fellow patient. We encourage you to become friends with those around you to aid in your healing.”

The plump woman who had been leading him around the hallways stopped them in front of a door and, knocking twice before hand, opened it. “You're lucky. You have a roommate, so why not start there?” She gave him a nudge and a smile before finally leaving him on his own.

The room was rather spacious, bigger than he expected to find in a boarding house for crazy people. There was enough room for two beds, two desks, and two sets of dressers with space to spare. On one of the beds sat his new roommate. He seemed to twitch when their eyes met.

There were visible scars that ran this way and that along his neck as well as some on his face. The scar tissue bunched and pulled as he smiled, or Taecyeon thought it was supposed to be a smile. 

"Hi, I'm Junsu.”

“I'm Taecyeon.”

“That's your bed there, and you can put your clothes in there." He gestured as he spoke, and Taecyeon thought he saw more faint lines on his wrist as his shirt shifted. "The bathroom is down at the end of the hall. They keep soap and things in there, and if you want a razor you have to ask.”

Taecyeon walked over to his bed where his bags had already been placed. He could tell from they way they looked that the staff had already gone through them and wondered if they took anything.

“Is there....”

When he turned back around Junsu was gone.

XXXXX

  


Taecyeon had seen movies about crazy people. When they were locked away it was in a stark white room, maybe with padding, while other patients ran through the halls or screamed. Everything was sterile and dank. But here, this place was nothing like that.

The main building was old brick and looked more like a wannabe mansion than a hospital. There were trees and flowers and even a stupid fenced in pond out on the grounds. Someone had tried to make everything seem peaceful, but the massive stone wall and staff in crisp blue scrubs patrolling the area didn't allowed you to forget where you were. 

No one forced him to do anything. He thought things would be stricter but besides therapy sessions every other day and fixed food and medicine times it was lax. For the first few days he had stayed in his room, listening to music or sleeping. He had it all to himself with Junsu only making an appearance when he needed something or for sleep. Taecyeon had tried to talk to him a few times, but the guy always looked ready to crawl out of his own skin when he did.

The fresh air outside was a change of pace. He was sitting on a bench minding his own business when someone else sat down besides him. 

“Hey. You're new here aren't you?”

“Uh, yeah. I'm Taecyeon.”

The stranger nodded, taking a drag from the cigarette he was holding in one had. His fingers seemed bony to Taecyeon, his wrist thin, and from the way his cheekbones showed so prominently when he inhaled it wasn't hard to figure out why he was here.

“I'm Wooyoung. You have a roommate right, Junsu? You lucked out on that man.”

“I hadn't noticed. He isn't very friendly.”

Wooyoung gave him a knowing grin, nodding again. “Next time you talk to him don't look at him. See how that goes. Ask about his poetry, it's good.” He took another puff. “This place isn't so bad once you get used to it.”

“It's certainly a lot different than I was expecting.”

“Does your family have money?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“They must. This isn't your typical mental facility, this is where kids of rich parents get sent so that when they come and visit us they can pretend we haven't been committed. My Mom likes to sit by the pond, drink tea, and play like we're having some kind of lunch date which is all kinds of fucked up.”

“I doubt mine will be visiting at all.” 

“Lucky you. Point is, it could be worse, so be happy your suicidal self got put here and not somewhere else.”

Taecyeon frowned. “How did you know?”

“I know the look.” Wooyoung snubbed his cigarette out on the arm of the bench before standing up. “Welcome to the club.”

XXXXX

  


The main gathering room in the house was almost always full. The doors closed at 11pm, so Taecyeon liked to go and hang out an hour or so before when it was the most empty. Usually he could have the TV to himself and be able to sit and feel a bit more normal for that one hour. It didn't really matter what was on, he just needed something to keep his mind occupied. After over a week trapped in this place he was starting to feel more crazy, not less.

When he entered the room there were a few stray people, mostly reading or talking to each other (or themselves). Almost no one noticed him, except for one person. Taecyeon had seen him before. Usually he seemed to be by himself, but sometimes Wooyoung was with him, playing board games.

He was smiling and waving enthusiastically at Taecyeon like they were old friends. It seemed like he wanted him to come over so Taecyeon walked up to the table he was sitting at.

“Do you...need help or something?”

The man nodded and pulled out the plastic chair next to him, patting the seat and looking toward Taecyeon expectantly. He hesitated. He could only guess what this guy could want from him, but there wasn't much of a way out of it now, so he sat. 

A blank piece of paper and a marker were sat down in front of him. 

Again the man watched him, waiting. When Taecyeon picked up the marker that seemed to please him and he smiled again before going back to his own drawing.

Taecyeon was no artist. His life was all logic and reason, his parents keeping him out of marching band and drama club so he could have private tutors instead. What the fuck was he supposed to draw? He scribbled the marker lazily across the paper, wondering how much he had to fill it up before he was allowed to leave.

“So....what's your name?”

No answer. After being so focused on him Taecyeon was ignored now, the other man busy working on his art. 

Taecyeon tried to make his look nice. A swirl there and some dots here. It was an ugly mess of doodles by the time he ran out of space a few minutes later.

“I'm done.” He capped the marker and sat it down, noticing he had somehow managed to mark up his hands. The man took the slip of paper back from him, looking it over. Taecyeon guessed he approved from the way he grinned at it. Instead of giving it back he slid his own drawing over to Taecyeon before getting up and disappearing out of the room.

Though it had been done in marker it was very detailed, intricately designed flowers all woven together across the paper. At the bottom in small block letters was _BY: KHUN_.

There was still plenty of time for him to watch tv, but Taecyeon found that he felt relaxed already.

XXXXX

  


Trying to crawl out of bed and quietly go take a piss was no easy task. Taecyeon's side of the room was covered in junk (even after several staff had yelled at him and told him to clean), and for someone who seemed to never be there Junsu made a mess of his own. Everything was dead silent, most patients relying on sleeping pills to get through the night.

Finally he managed to stumble his way down the hall and to the bathroom. When he cracked the door open, he froze.

The sound of gagging greeted his ears. It bounced off the tile walls of the bathroom, amplified. Taecyeon wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Should he tell someone, or turn tail and go back to sleep with his legs crossed?

A few moments later whoever it was stopped, though Taecyeon could still hear them panting heavily in the stall. He was surprised when they spoke.

“I know you're there. Either piss and leave or go get a nurse. This isn't a free show.”

“It's me Wooyoung.”

There were a few seconds of shuffling and the sound of the toilet flushing before the door opened and Wooyoung came out. He didn't look at Taecyeon, making straight for the sink to rinse his mouth and chin.

“You have terrible timing.”

“Sorry.”

“Whatever. It's fine. Probably better you interrupted me anyway.” Wooyoung waved away his apology, sliding down against the counter and onto the floor, closing his eyes. Taecyeon could see how bruised and thin the skin was under them. 

“Do they know? That you still do this?”

Wooyoung shrugged. “Probably. I've been told that if I don't make more progress soon they are going to transfer me somewhere that is 'better equipped to deal with my disorder',” he made air quotes when he spoke, “whatever that means.”

“Oh. How long have you been here?”

“About a year.”

“Do you-”

“Don't. Just fucking don't. This isn't a therapy session and you're not my shrink.” Taecyeon shut his mouth and for a few moments neither of them said anything. Then Wooyoung let out a frustrated grunt, banging his head back against the cabinets. “If you want to feel like you've done your good deed for the day then help me up. I don't know if I can walk to my room without passing out this time.”

So Taecyeon bent down, offering his shoulder to Wooyoung and helping him out of the bathroom. Walking through the halls with Wooyoung leaning against him Taecyeon the silence of the building made him anxious.

“I met your friend Khun today.”

“Did you? I'm not surprised, you look like shit.”

“What does that mean?”

Wooyoung let out a huff, shifting himself a bit as they walked. Taecyeon could tell he was trying to seem less light headed than he was but didn't call him on it. “If Khun thinks anyone is having a bad day he makes them come and sit with him. Think of him as your personal art therapist. He never talks, so he's a great listener.”

“I can see why you two get along.”

Wooyoung shot him a look.

XXXXX

  
It was supposed to be lights out time but neither of them were asleep. Wooyoung had been right, Taecyeon was lucky. He found that he was similar to Junsu in a lot of ways, and since taking his advice about not looking at him they'd been talking a lot more. Junsu seemed almost, well, normal when Taecyeon heard him but didn't see him.

Junsu was writing down something in a notebook. He always had one with him no matter where he was, always scribbling away in it with a pencil he had been lucky enough to be given. 

“Am I allowed to ask?”

“Ask what?”

Taecyeon turned his head away when Junsu looked up at him, feigning interest in his sweatpants. “Why you're here. I'll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Taecyeon wondered if he was overstepping his boundaries but he couldn't lie. He was curious. ED, schizophrenic, suicidal manic depressive. Most everyone wore their diagnosis on their sleeve here, but he couldn't figure Junsu out.

“It's.....”

“If you don't want to tell me you don't have to.”

“No. It's fine. I should. Talking about it, it's supposed to help. That's what Dr. Kim says.” Junsu paused and Taecyeon could hear him take a breath. “Looking at myself..in a mirror, in photos. I can't do it. I can't stand the sight of face or my body. I used to think, maybe, I could fix myself. Carve out all the bad parts, but....that's why I'm here.”

He could hear Junsu laugh but there was no humor behind it. 

“How long has it been like that?”

“I can't even remember now. 4 years? Maybe 5. Feels like forever.”

“Well your hair always looks pretty nice, for a guy who styles it without looking in a mirror.”

This time he did laugh, a real one even if it was small. “What about you? How did you end up here?”

Taecyeon thought it over a moment. The how was long and complicated. Overbearing parents. An IQ that just couldn't measure up. Stress that seemed to build up and never leave him. He felt like he used to be perfect, and then suddenly the bottom was falling out from under him. 

But that wasn't the how Junsu was asking about.

“Pills. I came home one day and decided to take as many as I could find, everything in the medicine cabinet. I didn't want to be myself anymore, live my life. I don't know. Maybe I'm crazy or maybe I was just trying to run away.”

A giant lump had lodged itself in Taecyeon's throat and he tried to swallow it down, lips tight. He never talked about anything outside of his therapy sessions. It was easier to pretend like none of it existed, or like it didn't matter whether he got better or not. Everything was already ruined.

“At least you get the chance to figure it out right? You lived so that has to mean something.”

Taecyeon scoffed.

“Yeah. I don't believe that bullshit either.”

XXXXX

  
When Taecyeon had first heard about group therapy he thought it would be the worst part of his stay. Having to pour his heart out to random strangers didn’t sound like it would be very healing, but it was mandatory for all patients. After a few sessions he realized it wasn’t so bad. Hardly anyone else wanted to talk about themselves either, and no matter how much the therapist tried to push if you didn’t want to speak they couldn’t make you. It didn’t stop her from trying.

“Today we’re going to try something different. Instead of me doing all the talking you’ll get to talk to each other. I have some questions you can ask if you get anxious or can’t think of what to say so don’t worry.”

There was some groaning but everyone complied, sitting where they were told to sit. Taecyeon hadn’t met any of his group members outside of the therapy sessions so his partner was a stranger to him.

“Hi, I’m Taecyeon. What’s your name?” He extended his hand for a shake, but when he did his partner seemed to flinch away from him. After a moment of hesitation he reached out and weakly took it.

“I’m Chansung.”

Looking Chansung over Taecyeon guessed he must have been as tall as he was, if not taller. He could tell that he was a big guy. It seemed like he felt more like a small kid stuck in a big guy’s body though, the way he hunched his back and brought his shoulders in as if trying to make himself take up less space. 

He could tell Chansung wasn’t about to lead the conversation so Taecyeon looked at the paper they had been given, seeing if any of the questions were interesting.

“Okay, so, uhhh….do you have any pets?”

“I had a cat once. His name was Jeonggam. But…” Chansung seemed to hunch down even further in his chair, his voice quieting. “My Dad got rid of him.”

“That sucks. I was never allowed to have pets. What about,” Taecyeon looked down at the paper again, “do you have any hobbies?”

Before Chansung could answer a shouting match started between two other patients. Taecyeon turned to look, watching as the therapist intervened and tried to calm the two women down. He couldn’t tell what they had been upset about but apparently it was nothing important, and after a few minutes the fight was over as quickly as it started, both of them sitting down and going back to their conversation like nothing happened.

“Just when I start to forget where I am something reminds me.” 

Taecyeon joked, turning back to Chansung with a grin, but Chansung wasn’t laughing. Instead he had his eyes shut tight, hands covering his ears as he rocked slightly in his seat. Taecyeon glanced around to see where the therapist was but she was already busy talking to someone else. 

“Hey, Chansung. Hey.” He reached out hesitantly, afraid that maybe touching him could make him worse, but he had to get his attention somehow. A gentle tap on the knee made Chansung’s eyes snap open. “It’s fine. No one is yelling now.”

It took a moment for his words to register, but slowly Chansung brought down his hands, letting them rest in his lap. “S-sorry. I don’t like it when people fight.”

“It’s fine.” Taecyeon shrugged it off, wanting to seem nonchalant. “How about both of us say screw these stupid questions and we sit here nice and quiet and take a nap until group is over?”

Chansung gave a small smile at that, nodding his head. “Okay, sure.”

XXXXX

  
The library that the facility had was a sad collection. Most everything must have been donated, books old and worn with spines so weak they fell flat open at the slightest touch. There was a strangely large amount of romance novels, which Taecyeon was half-tempted to read sometimes, but he decided he wasn’t that desperate yet.

As he was flipping through a book a noise in the distance caught his ear. He thought maybe it was shouting, or something breaking, too far off to tell for sure. Shelving the book he walked trying to find where it was coming from.

Out in one of the open common areas there was a small crowd of people. Pushing his way to the front he could see what had gotten their attention. Everyone was watching two orderlies who seemed to be wrestling with someone.

“Get OFF ME. Stop touching me! Get away!”

Taecyeon recognized the voice and suddenly he could see Junsu shoving the two orderlies and trying to break away from them. He looked half crazed as they grabbed his arms, eyes wide and yelling unintelligible threats. He hardly seemed like the same quiet guy Taecyeon had been rooming with all this time.

While they were trying to secure him Taecyeon noticed something on the shirt of one of the men, a big red blotch of some kind. Blood. It didn’t take long for his eyes to find the source. Junsu’s right hand was a mess, continuing to drip all over the carpet as he thrashed and flexed it. 

Trying to quell the worry in his voice Taecyeon turned to the person next to him. “What the fuck happened?”

He guy looked up at him, someone he had never seen before. “I don’t know. I was just talking to him, all I said was ‘you have something on your face’ and he freaked out. Smashed a window up and everything.”

“You said what?!”

“Was that a bad thing to say?” The stranger looked at him with a confused expression for a moment before turning back to watch as the two orderlies dragged a still struggling Junsu out of sight. 

Taecyeon might have believed he was as clueless as he sounded if it weren’t for the smirk he saw tug at his lips as he watched. But before he could say anything more to him he turned and left, wandering away with the rest of the crowd now that the show was over.

XXXXX

  
“You wouldn’t be able to visit him even if you got permission to go over there, don’t bother.”

“Why not?”

Wooyoung didn’t glance away from his drawing as he spoke, concentration focused on trying to draw a perfect circle. “The infirmary building has two sections. Once area is for patients who are simply sick or injured. Then there is the place for the patients who lose their fruit loops. That’s where they keep the padded rooms and beds they can strap you into.” His marker slipped and he cursed, finally looking up at Taecyeon with a resigned sigh. “No one goes there but staff.”

Taecyeon frowned. He could still remember what it was like waking up to find your arms and legs trapped against a mattress. He hoped to never relive the experience. 

The three of them, Khun sitting to the other side of Wooyoung, had been in the day room for at least an hour now. The other two hadn’t been there to see it happen but gossip spread quick, and when Khun had wordlessly demanded a group doodle session neither of them declined.

“What do you think will happen to the guy that caused it? I know he did it on purpose.”

“Junho?” Wooyoung scoffed. “Of course he did. They can’t do anything about it though.”

“You know him? I thought he was new, I’d never seen him before.” 

“He’s new to you but not new to this place. He comes and goes; I think his parents must send him back whenever they need a break from him.”

Somehow Taecyeon wasn’t surprised by that. He barely knew the guy and he couldn’t stand him already. He wondered why they kept allowing him back but he remembered what Wooyoung said to him the first time he met him. He must come with a ton of money in tow.

As he poked through the pile of markers in the middle of the table to find the perfect color he noticed Khun’s own paper was mostly empty.

“What’s wrong Khun? Artist’s block?”

Khun frowned and with an aggravated groan began to scribble and stab angrily at his page. Taecyeon watched in shock but Wooyoung didn’t seem to notice or care. Only after he had killed the poor marker and shoved the tip up into the casing did Khun stop, flopping his head down onto the table with another groan.

“Artist’s temper tantrum is more like it. Even Sunshine can’t stand Junho. He’ll be alright, just let him rest.”

“I though Khun liked everyone.”

“Everyone that deserves it.” Wooyoung looked at Taecyeon, his expression serious. “Junho is a certified psycho, I’m not exaggerating Taecyeon. You might hate him but don’t try to do anything about it. He lives for confrontation.”

“Alright alright. I promise to stay clear of him. I’m more than happy to.”

“Good. Now hurry up and finish that ugly cat you’re drawing, I want to go out for a smoke.”

XXXXX

  
Usually when Taecyeon went to his one on one therapy sessions he talked to a nice old man who looked like he was about to die at any moment. He must have been at least a hundred but he was still sharp and smart, and Taecyeon felt comfortable talking to him.

Today however he had been told to go and see the head psychiatrist who ran the place. The nurse had told him it was a routine checking in appointment but that didn’t do anything to ease his mind. The chair was different and uncomfortable, lumpy in some places and soft in others, and he could feel sweat slicking his palms.

“So how have you been these past few days Taecyeon? Any thoughts you want to share?”

He rubbed his hands against his thighs, shrugging. “I’ve been fine. I guess I’ve just been wondering about Junsu. Is he okay? I wanted to visit but someone told me I’m not allowed.”

“That’s very kind of you, thinking about him. Whoever told you is correct. We don’t allow visitors besides family to the ward Junsu is placed in. Don’t worry though; if he comes back he’ll still be sharing a room with you so you’ll see him again.”

“If?”

“How have you been handling your new medication? If it doesn’t seem to be working you need to tell someone right away. Do you have any questions about it, any side effects?” She seemed to ignore his question, going on with ones of her own.

“No side effects. I like it more, it makes me feel less…I don’t know, slow. It’s fine. But I do have a question about something else.”

“Ask away.”

“You might not be able to answer because I know there’s patient doctor confidentiality and all, but uh I’ve been wondering. About Khun. I’ve been talking to him a lot lately, well, not talking, but you know what I mean, and-“

“Taecyeon.”

“What?”

“You’re rambling.”

“Oh, uh,” he cleared his throat, “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Although I can’t help but notice that you seem to want to talk about anyone but yourself.”

“That’s not true. There’s just…nothing to talk about.”

The doctor sighed, uncrossing her legs and sitting up in her chair. “If that’s the way you think then I’ll be blunt. If you were alone in a room with another bottle of pills right now would you take them?”

“Yes.”

The answer popped into his head and out of his mouth with no hesitation. He wanted to be surprised or to feel horrified at himself, but there was nothing. No shock or guilt. She didn’t seem surprised either. Instead she kept going, not missing a beat.

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“Do you want to die?”

“I don’t want to be alive.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“Maybe. I don’t care if it is or not.”

“Why don’t you care?”

“Because what’s the point!” Taecyeon shot up out of his seat, muscles twitching. He couldn’t sit, didn’t want to be in this room or talk about any of this. But it felt like his legs could only take him so far. He was tired and burning up with energy at the same time. He hovered around the back of the chair, clenching the top of it so tightly it creaked.

For her part the doctor didn’t look startled by the outburst. She simply nodded as if she had expected it. “You think there’s no point to your life. Maybe you don’t want to die, but you don’t want to live either. So why are you?”

He knitted his eyebrows together, not understanding. “Why am I what?”

“Living. Every day you get up. You eat, read, and watch television. You’ve even made friends while you are here. Some patients in your position never even bother to come out of their rooms. So why do you do it?”

Taecyeon laughed. Loud, bent over laughter. At that the doctor did seem taken aback, her lips turning down into a confused frown.

“I’m not sure I see what’s so funny.”

“You call this living? _This_? What a joke.” More laughter threatened to spill out but he clenched his stomach, trying to swallow it down. Having a hysteric fit in a psychiatrist’s office of all places would be a bad idea even if he did feel an inch away from losing it. “This isn’t living. This is me being watched after and taken care of by other people all the time. That’s easy, I can do that. Having to take care of myself and depend on myself is the hard part.”

XXXXX

  
“You look like an ugly corpse.”

“Funny. You’re the one in a hospital bed with IVs hooked up to you and I’m the one who looks bad?”

“Yeah well. I don’t have a mirror or anything so I can’t insult myself. You however have your fuck up shit all in my face.”

Taecyeon laughed and to his relief Wooyoug smiled too. He thought about telling him that he looked like complete shit too, but Wooyoung probably already knew. After passing out in a bathroom he’d been taken to the infirmary two days ago, and Taecyeon had only now been allowed to come see him. The cheap hospital gown looked three sizes too big and didn’t help hide the fact that there wasn’t much to him. 

“So? What’s the problem?”

“Are you a shrink now too?”

“I’ve seen enough of them. I could probably be one by now, no schooling necessary.”

“It’s nothing. Just not sleeping well I guess.”

“Take more drugs like the rest of us. You’ll sleep soundly then.”

The idea of taking more pills than he had to didn’t sit well with Taecyeon but he kept it to himself. His own problems weren’t something he was going to burden Wooyoung with at a time like this.

“Have they told you when you can go back to the main building yet?”

“Never.” Wooyoung sighed and rolled his eyes, though Taecyeon could tell it was forced. “Remember I told you they were probably thinking of moving me? I was right. They ‘suggested’ that after I’m well enough I move to a different place for ‘people like me’ instead of stay here. It’s not as if they can force me, but...”

“But you want to get better?”

“I did once. When it first started, I used to pig out sometimes. I binged on so much shit it was unreal. Then I would go to dance practice and work until I was so disgusted and nauseous I couldn’t stand it. I’d pretend it was all the dancing that did it to me but eventually I stopped. Cut out the middle man. Sometimes I miss it but my body is too fucked up for that now so I think, why bother?”

Taecyeon felt the words on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to say that Wooyoung was a great person and if he put his mind to it he could probably do anything. If he fought he would win. All those cliché things everyone tells everyone else even when they don’t believe in it themselves. But here, in a place like this, they’d both know what a hypocrite he was for saying it.

Instead Taecyeon shrugged and simply said “You could always take up knitting.”

“Fuck you. Why don’t you take it up, I think your head is full of yarn.”

And they laughed, and pretended like nothing mattered to them, when really it all mattered too much.

XXXXX

  
Since the first meeting it hadn’t been hard for Taecyeon to avoid Junho. While the place wasn’t large it wasn’t small either, and Junho never seemed to be hanging around the common spaces much anyway. But like all good things he wasn’t surprised that it didn’t last.

After meeting in group Taecyeon had spent some more time hanging out with Chansung now and then. He still looked like he was trying to crawl inside himself whenever Taecyeon saw him, but he seemed to be smiling more and flinching less. 

They were sitting together watching TV when Junho came in. Taecyeon wouldn’t have noticed him at first but he let out a loud, dramatic sigh, drawing everyone’s attention to himself.

“Oh what will I do. Today is such a boring day and I have no one to play with.” He glanced around the room, fixing them with a grin when he spotted them. “Well hello.”

Taecyeon could feel Chansung shift and tense next to him as Junho made his way over. “Just ignore him.” Chansung glanced at him and nodded, but Taecyeon knew it would be easier said than done.

Junho sat himself down on the arm of the sofa next to Chansung. “Am I interrupting a bonding moment? That’s cute. I can see why you’d get along. You have the father figure look to you,” Junho glanced at Taecyeon, then slid his gaze to Chansung, “and Chansung is quite the daddy’s boy, aren’t you?”

Chansung flinched away from Junho at that, trying to scoot down the sofa and create more space between them, his eyes carefully keeping their focus on the TV. Of course Junho didn’t care. Rather than backing off he swung his legs around, stretching them out and resting them across Chansung’s lap casually. A strangled noise caught in Chansung’s throat but he didn’t make a move to push Junho off.

“Leave him alone Junho, go mess with somebody else.” Taecyeon clenched his teeth, trying to keep his voice even.

“No way. A big guy like him, I’m waiting to see if he’ll finally snap and hulk out. We haven’t had a good show around here since your little friend remembered how ugly he is.” Junho fixed him with a smirk, the same one he had the time before.

Taecyeon stood, turning toward Junho. “Fuck off. No one wants to hear your shit so do everyone in here a favor and leave.” 

He had hoped his height would be enough to intimidate Junho but he didn’t seem bothered. Instead he flicked at Chansung’s hair, twisting and playing around with it. Chansung didn’t seem to react now and Taecyeon wasn’t sure if it was better or worse that he had tuned out and found a place in his head to hide. 

“Pass.”

“I said. Fuck off.” 

This time Junho looked at him, his eyes narrowed. He pulled his legs off of Chansung and stood up, going almost toe to toe with Taecyeon. 

“Aren’t you such a saint. Do you really care so much about the feelings of a bunch of freaks?”

“Stop.”

“Did you come here just to play knight in shining armor?”

“ _Stop_ .”

“Or did Mommy and Daddy just not love you enough so you decided to piss them off by pretending to be crazy?”

Taecyeon didn’t say it again. Instead he let his body do the talking, arm drawing back and slamming right into Junho’s nose. Some of the other patients in the room reacted with screams, some with laughs. Chansung sat on the sofa still unresponsive even as Junho writhed at his feet and cried out in pain.

XXXXX

  
The solitary confinement room wasn’t much different from his bedroom. Just smaller and emptier. There was no furniture and the window had been carefully covered, so Taecyeon sat himself in a corner. He wasn’t sure how long he was going to be locked in. They had only told him it was until he calmed down.

He felt pretty damn calm. Few things in his life so far had been more satisfying than breaking Junho’s nose.

For a while he tried to count carpet fibers, and then he tried to pretend they were clouds and see if he could find shapes in them, but he could only avoid his own thoughts for so long. He wondered if Wooyoung had left yet or if he could visit him one last time before he was gone. He wanted to ask him to keep in touch, to write or call sometimes. Wooyoung would probably snort and call him a girl but Taecyeon knew he’d agree.

He wondered how Junsu was doing, if he would see him again too or if he was gone. The bedroom seemed too big without someone else in it and he had never gotten a chance to ask about his poetry. 

One day Taecyeon knew he would leave too. Would he leave to go back home, or would he be like them, simply switching one hospital for another? 

The same response as always crept back to him. It didn’t matter. There was nothing outside these brick walls for him anymore. Four years of his life had been spent at school and in the end his grades had tanked, taking his plans of going on to law school with them. Neither his parents nor any of his friends came to see him or tried to contact him and it wouldn’t be any different once he left. 

Everything that had been his life was gone and he didn’t feel like it was worth it to start over.

As he plucked absently at the carpet he wondered if maybe he could just stay here forever. Maybe there was no getting better and he was meant to be just some crazy guy trapped away from the rest of the world, not a successful handsome lawyer with a beautiful wife and perfect children like he’d always been told to imagine. Somehow the thought didn’t bother him as much as it might have once upon a time.


End file.
